


Buttercup

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [210]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dog - Freeform, Gen, Sam has a pet hellhound, hell hound, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 19:12:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8114164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: Sam was supposed to be the boyking. He turned down the role, but he still got one of the perks.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece from Tumblr.
> 
> Warnings: Hellhound/dog. The dog doesn't like it when Dean mistreats Sam.

Sam doesn’t want to be Boy King. He’s actively refused the title and the crown time and time again, actually. But that doesn’t change the fact that hell has chosen him.

It’s based on scents, he supposes. He smells like what the ruler of hell is supposed to smell like, and it’s no wonder the dog latches on to him. He smells like Master, even if he never wanted the job.

She’s a hell hound, a vicious beast bred for ripping apart souls, only she looks like a mastiff, likes long runs, and chewing on pieces of rope. She’s affectionate and slobbery, likes sticking her head out of the back window when they’re driving, and is a master at getting people food from Sam.

She also turns invisible and attacks whenever she feels Sam is threatened, which proves useful on hunts and a nightmare everywhere else. All it takes is Sam calling her back to make her stop, but it’s incredibly frightening to see his dog disappear right before he hears the baying cry of a hell hound.

She goes after Dean sometimes. Not seriously, or at least, not anymore. Sam got absolutely pissed when she truly tried to attack him once, and she’s so unused to really seeing Sam mad, that she certainly learned her lesson. But she’s good at reading Sam’s moods. And if Dean upsets Sam, seriously upsets him, she’ll turn invisible, growl at him, maybe snap at his heels a bit. Her version of teaching Dean a lesson, Sam supposes. It’s at least somewhat affective, so Sam can’t fault her too much. Dean treats him better with the reminder that Sam has a pet hell hound.

Sam names her Buttercup, and Dean finds that hilarious. Honestly, Sam did it because she managed to dye herself yellow in a field of buttercups a week after she had persistently started to follow him around. But the name does seem kink of strange for a beast of hell.

A beats of hell who is currently slobbering all over the leg of Sam’s jeans, her head mournfully in his lap as he cruelly ignores her and the run she so obviously wants for research.

“The puppy eyes don’t work on me,” he says, not looking up from his book. “I invented them. Can’t fool me.”

She adds a mournful little sound to the mix, and that does work on Sam, at least a little bit. Not enough to make him put the book down, but enough to tug on his heartstrings a little bit.

The second sad moan does him in. He sighs and sets his book down beside him. Buttercup knows what that means, and bounds over to the door, suddenly cheery.

Sam stands, dog slobber soaking his leg through his jeans. “C’mon, girl. Let’s take a break.”

And then Sam walks out the door, monster from hell trotting along happily behind him, slobbering as she goes.


End file.
